Memories in Cursed Pages
by Sveetie
Summary: I just wanted to move into my new apartment. I just wanted to have my own life. Helping the restless spirit of a beautiful girl and trying to stop my face from being taken? I didn't ask for this; who would want this?


I had just finished moving into my new apartment. A nice, quiet, quaint little place that I could be able to live in on my own and still have a comfortable life. I had three months of rent paid in advance (thanks to my mom, who had tearfully allowed me to move out), and with a job opportunity on the way I was doing pretty well for myself. Spending the better part of the week shuttling my belongings to the new place (which was a lot, pack rat I am), I just wanted to curl up on my bed and nap the rest of the afternoon away. My wonderful fantasy was disturbed when there was a harsh, hurried knock at my door. I had half a mind to just ignore it, grab my over-sized teddy, and ignore it, but the knock became a frantic pounding.

"Alright, alright" I muttered, reluctantly getting up from my nice, warm bed and shuffling over to the door. The person on the other side was a woman, and although she couldn't have been that much older than I was, she looked like she had seen hell itself. Wide, terrified eyes and shoulders hunched defensively, like she was bracing herself for a strike that would never come. She shoved a box into my chest before I could finish my question.

"Shhh!"

She said urgently, looking over each of her shoulders before leaning in and whispering. "_She'll_ hear us. _She'll_ find me if you're not quiet." She pressed the box more urgently against my chest, and I reluctantly wrapped my arms around it. "But not if I give this to you. It will throw me off her trail; she'll never find me." She continued, her tone hysterical. "It is your problem now. I wash my hands of her curse!" With that she was gone, hurrying down the hall like the hounds of hell were at her heels, and I stood there, mouth gaped open as I watched her leave. The situation hit me, and dropped the box like it had started ticking. I stared down at it. It wasn't even a proper packing box, but a shoe-box that had been sloppily sealed with some packing tape. Carefully, oh so carefully, I knelt down and picked up the box again, bringing it to my ear and shaking it slightly. Whatever was inside felt light and harmless enough. It hadn't started ticking and my hands hadn't been blown off. Shrugging I went back inside and dumped the box on the kitchen counter, fishing around for a knife while lamenting my lack of organizational skills. Curiosity had gotten the better of me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep with a mystery package sitting in my kitchen.

Inside the box was a black camera, somehow managing to look both modern and rustic at the same time. Two lenses on the front, and a display screen on the back, with gold decals on the corners and facing. My brother would probably love to have had a look at it, photographer and all-around appreciator of cameras that he was. Me? Cameras and photography wasn't my thing, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe that lady had just been crazy, or on some sort of hallucinogenic that made her think cameras stole souls. Setting the camera aside, I looked in the box again, there were four different kind of lenses, along with a small book, about the size of a school notebook. The cover was worn out and stained, a blotch of ink where the name or a title would be. Humming in curiosity, I thumbed through it. The first page was blank, the corners covered in large ink stains. The page after that had a photo of a man taped onto it, a part had been ripped out, as if on purpose. The next page had a blurred picture of notes and documents with frantic, but illegible, writing on it. The rest of the pages followed the same pattern; weird, almost creepy, photos taped onto each of the pages, without any sort of rhyme or reason. Two children's drawings, a page of sheet music... "Weird." I said, placing the book back in the box. I scooped up the camera on my way back to my room and put it on my desk before finally falling onto my bed and falling asleep.

* * *

I dreamed of an antiquated house, one that would have have been grand and impressive if it wasn't cloaked in shadow. A group all huddled around a table while something, someone, squirmed around helplessly.

"Never escape... Never escape." Was muttered in a droning chorus. The scene switched suddenly, and a man was yelling in pain as he held his hands firmly over his eyes, his head shaking back and forth as if he was trying to shake something off that was burning him. The scene shifted again, this time to a woman in a black dress laughing hysterically as she stood among a pile of corpses. Her dress was bloodstained, so impossibly red that it stood out against the black. Her hands were covered fingertip to elbow in blood. This had been a fresh slaughter. Her laughter came to a sudden stop, and she stared. It felt like she was staring not at me, but through me. Gracefully she stepped forward, over the bloody mess of corpses, her lips a wide, disturbing smile as she continued to get closer and closer.

"_Never... escape..." _She breathed lowly. She lifted her arms, as if to embrace me. I felt the warm blood touch my arm, and I screamed.

* * *

**Holy crap, I'm back on this site. Never thought I'd see the day, honestly, since I can't even remember my old screen name. **

**Anyway, I recently got myself a copy of Cursed Memoirs, and I love it to death. Naturally the next step was to make a novelization of it, right? xD **


End file.
